Witchcraft,Treason,Plot
by XxMercyful-DeathxX
Summary: The guise of Witchcraft is used to conceal murder, turning the villagers of Sleepy Hollow against each other. [Ichabod Crane]
1. Chapter 1

**N/B:There are plenty of stories about Ichabod and Katrina's lives after they left sleepy hollow, this is not one of them. This story takes place in Sleepy Hollow a hundred years before the original story, set several years after the infamous Salem Witch trails. I made my own changes to suit the story so I probably won't be getting much positive feedback if any at all.**

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:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::_**Witchcraft.Treason.Plot**_:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Sleepy Hollow - 1696_

Bouquets of wild flowers landed in a fragrant pile onto the cold body of Goody Ann Linder. Sam Wright stood away from the crowd, leaning on his shovel and waiting for the morose congregation to leave so he could get his deed over and done with. I watched his cold grey eyes scan the crowd, pausing on Governor Linder's twin daughters, Agnes and Eliza. The girls stood motionless beside their father watching the lid of the coffin slam shut as it lowered their mother into the grave.

"Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust." Reverend Curbain declared to the despondent congregation, meaning the funeral service was now over and he was inclined to take a meaningful swill from his hipflask.

I stood hugging my arms around me, eager to be back at the Wildes's cottage. Mary Wilde and her husband Jack stood nearby talking in hushed tones. I closed my tired eyes briefly only to be reunited with the bloodied body of the deformed babe.

'_No one must know about this!' insisted Charles Linder, taking a quick look at the child before turning away in disgust, 'No one, do you understand me?'_

_Mary held the new born in her arms, examining the pointed stumps that protruded from his scalp, 'Surely this is a mere ailment, Sir,' she pleaded, 'I see nothing wrong with the child for it appears a sweet and lusty babe.'_

_Charles Linder scowled, 'Get rid of it! I shall not suffer the child to live. The markings of the devil are upon it. I will not be held responsible for the evil it will unleash unto our humble community.' I kneeled beside Ann's bedside and mopped her brow. Her breathing came in shallow ragged breaths as I counted the seconds between each one and wondered which would be her last._

'_Do not lecture me, Madam! I shall have you punished for your impertinence. Take the child and dispose of it, but take care not to be seen!'_

_Mary looked down at the babe lying so peacefully in her arms and stammered, 'I -I'm sorry Sir, I can't do it. I won't.' _

_Governor Linder snatched the babe from Mary's arms and called to his daughters, 'Agnes! Eliza!' _

'_Please, Sir!' I cried out, 'Mrs Linder is…' but he had fled the room still holding the babe. I heard one of the girls give a shriek, followed by a light thud on the wooden floor._

_He returned empty handed moments later; his sullen face glowing, 'I trust that you understand that you can never mention this to anyone.' He said to icily to Mary, his eyes darting across the room and flashing at me. 'I hope you will take this as a token of consolation.' Charles rummaged in his pocket and withdrew a small purse heavy with coin and held it outstretched to Mary. 'Take it!' he shouted when she hesitated, 'Take the money and never tell a soul.'_

_In the parlor, Mary was attending to Agnes's collapsed body when Eliza came in from the yard. She quickly wiped her hands on her skirt and knelt beside us on the floor, 'You can take your leave now, I'll watch over her.' Eliza said haughtily and narrowed her eyes at me threateningly. _

'_What did you with the babe?' asked Mary, her hand shaking as she lifted a flail of smelling salts to Agnes's face._

'_What babe?' inquired Eliza._

Sam Wright's mean mouth curved into a smirk as he began to shovel damp earth onto the coffin, his gleaming green eyes turned to me, 'They never told us what happened to the child, Elizabeth,' he began, 'And with you being the midwife's aid, I was hoping you might be able to tell me something.' He had stopped digging and stood leaning on the shovel, waiting for my reply.

I tried not to express shock at his enquiry, for surely this was of no matter to him. 'Goody Linder was not with child. It was merely a stomach infection that led us astray.'

He looked disappointed, 'Surely there must be something you're not telling me,' he insisted.

'There is nothing more to tell you, Samuel.' I said before turning my back on him and starting towards the Wildes's, looking back just once to find him still watching.

Mary and Jack Wildes were not kin to me, but I would be forever indebted to the kindness they bestowed upon me by taking me into their home and keeping me safe from the cruel fate that met both of my parents and resulted in them both being persecuted. Persecuted for witchcraft.

My name is not Elizabeth Sherrit as I am known in this village; I am Carmen Fox, daughter of Quentin and Isabella Fox of Salem Village who ended their life with a garland of hemp entwining their necks as they danced at the end of the rope. I was not yet twelve years old and thus no one in the village too bowed down by suspicion noticed me as I disappeared from their records forever. For five days I walked through the woods unharmed by the Native tribes that supposedly populated the forest. For days I fed myself on bark and leaves that my parents had taught me were edible, and at night slept in the hollows of trees. Though they attended the mandatory church services until the day they died, my parents did not believe in God or any superior power that our Puritan leaders had us believe. Sense and Reason was enough to reassure them if ever they questioned existence, and nature was the alter that consecrated their way of life that restored them to their cruel fate. On the morning of the sixth day I awoke to find myself face to face with the curious eyes of a young wolf, or what I took to be a wolf. Remus, half hound, half wolf discovered me asleep in the hollow of a grand oak. I let him lead to the edge of the forest where his owners lived and into the garden of Mary Wildes where I found her planting juniper saplings. It is since that day that I've lived in the household of the Wildes, grateful to their kindness by making myself useful around the house and assisting Mary Wilde, the village midwife. Due to my wide knowledge of plants and herbs taught to me from an early age by my mother, I was able to help Mary care for her garden and brew salves and tonics for the ill. Though Mary and her husband Jack remain respected citizens in this community, the fear of being accused of witchcraft has remained deep down at the bottom of my heart like the tortured images of my poor parents engraved into memory.

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**A/N: Would really appreciate constructive criticism regarding historical accuracy and story detail. Ichabod doesn't come into the story just yet so please be patient.xXxSugar**


	2. Chapter 2

_Sleepy Hollow - 1696_

Mary placed an arm around my shoulder, 'Is everything alright, Elizabeth?' she asked as we made our way towards the edge of the forest where the Wildes's cottage stood.

'Samuel Wright was asking about Goody Linder's child.'

Mary turned pale, 'And what did you say?

'I told him she never was with child, that it was a simple stomach infection.' I reassured her.

She looked relieved, 'Good. But I fear this may only be the beginning, Elizabeth,' she said sadly before continuing, 'Hester Davies's child is to be due soon and I can only hope that the same complications wont occur with this birth. For you know only too well what this could lead to.'

The unspoken word eager to slide off the tip of her tongue hung in the moist morning air. Nothing was ever said of the child that had been born that night. Deep down in my cowardly conscience I made myself admit that I was relieved that the child had not survived for fear of what could have happened as a result of it becoming known to the public. Once an ordeal like the accusation of witchcraft spread through a village high on suspicion and scorn, anyone and everyone was a suspect punishable by cruel torture followed by a certain death at the end of the rope.

'It will all be alright, Mary,' I tried to reassure her, 'This was not a disfigurement caused by sorcery, merely an ailment that took place while the babe was inside.'

'Pray let it be that, Elizabeth, for our very trade puts us in grave danger.'

The Wildes's cottage stood on the edge of the east side of town. A small modest dwelling isolated from the rest of our towns people whose farms lay scattered alongside each other. The two story home stood tall against the dark outline of the surrounding forest, the scent of Mary's physick garden wafting sweetly around us as we crossed the threshold and entered the low beamed front room. Dried herbs harvested last summer hung in bunches from the ceiling, brushing against my head as I entered the room and knelt by the hearth to add more wood to the weakening flames.

'Elizabeth?' called Mary gently from the work table where she prepared her brews and cordials, 'Would you kindly go to the garden and pick some nettles?'

I rubbed my poor blistered hands, 'What are you preparing?'

She added a handful of juniper berries to the motar and looked up at me, 'A cordial to strengthen Hester's blood so that she's strong for when the babe comes.'

I walked outside into the sweet scented garden and gathered a handful of nettle, carefully wrapping my skirt around my hand so as not to be stung. The crumbling stone fence enclosed an abundance of plants awaking from their long winter slumber. Most of the herbs would not be ready until May and would then have to be carefully tended to.

Mary stood by the hearth stirring the sickly smelling herbal mixture. She took the nettle from my hands and began to pluck the leaves of the stems, quietly singing to herself, hardly wincing as the nettle stung her hands.

'That'll be her right now,' said Mary when Jack answered the light knocking at the door to let Hester Davies into the house.

'Mary, Elizabeth,' said Hester shyly and let Mary lead her to a cushioned seat by the hearth. Only a year older than myself, at seventeen Hester had already been married for a year and was now expecting her second child. Married in haste to her cousin Elijah Davies when her widower father died, Hester was reduced to pious duty to her husband and often beaten when things did not go to his satisfaction. She showed the countenance of a scared rabbit as she sat looking around the room nervously holding one had to her mouth.

'Have you got the toothache?' I asked softly, biting my lip as I saw her eyes cast down, staring at the patched rug at her feet. Mary looked up from the brew and gave me a sympathetic look. 'Hester?' I asked again, knowing full well that it would soon be revealed as a result of her husband's hand.

'No, Miss.' She mumbled quietly, 'Tis nothing.'

Mary who had been pouring the pale green cordial into a phial left the phial on the table and stood beside Hester. Lifting a cool pale hand to Hester's face she removed Hester's hand and examined the busted lip and sighed, Hester looked away in shame.

'I'll give you a salve for the swelling.' Mary sighed and went to collect the cordial from the table, 'You must take care, Hester, your babe is due soon and you must rest. If Mr Davies is in a foul temper slip some Valerian into his drink,' she said, producing a small phial of dark brown liquid from the folds of her dress, 'It is sure to have a calming affect and keep his rage at bay.'

Hester took the two phials and they disappeared into the folds of her skirt. She smiled weakly and nodded at Mary and me

'Take care now,' called Mary as Hester walked down the path, 'Send for me as soon as the pains start.' She called after Hester.

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When I awoke that night Mary stood by my bed shaking me gently, fully dressed with her bag of medicines in one hand, Jack standing beside her holding a candle. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up.

'Elijah Davies was just at our door, Elizabeth, the babe has come early and Hester has gone into labor.' she needed to say no more as I roused myself and was left to get dressed.

Outside the wind howled and the rain hit our faces as we walked quickly, almost running. Approaching the Davies's cottage we saw that all lights had been lit and neighbors had gathered as we pushed through the crowd. Elijah Davies led us upstairs to the room where Hester lay on the four poster bed, Goody Curbain and five young women from the village standing around her in the crowded room. Hester was quiet; she lay with her knees drawn up to her chest, beads of perspiration glittering on her brow.

Mary turned to Goody Peters, 'I'm going to need you to heat some water, and if possible, see if you can find some animal grease.' She laid a reassuring hand on Hester's brow.

Time passed slowly in the badly lit room, the women sat around gossiping amongst themselves. Hester gripped Mary's hand and screamed before once more sinking back to the mattress. Panic arose in me, remembering the night Goody Linders died as I once more saw the deformed child in my mind. Hours went by and the pains began to increase, one after the other leaving Hester breathless.

'_May the seven directions guide this work, may it be pleasing to my grandmothers, the ancient ones. So mote it be._' I muttered, remembering the chant my own mother had used. Mary cast me a reproving glance, noting that the women in the room had stopped talking and were looking to me. 'Amen.' I said in order to disguise the chant as the Lords prayer and stop loose tongues wagging.

Finally with one last push, the child was brought into the world. Mary held the babe, struggling to see the baby in the candlelight. Her face creased into a frown and hesitated.

'What is it?' I whispered, is there anything wrong with it?' Mary shot me a fleeting look as she quickly cut the cord and swaddled the child.

Hester's aunt, Goody Curbain rushed to our side, 'Let me see,' she smiled and reached for the new born.

Mary held the babe in her arms and made no more to let go, 'Please Ma'am, its better if…'

The old woman glowered at Mary and pulled the child from her arms. I closed my eyes and waited as the old woman began to unwrap the swaddling. The women who had been watching the proceedings gathered around her as she held the child outstretched in front of her. I grasped Mary's hand and watched in horror as the tail like stump that protruded from the child's lower back came into view.

'This child is of the devils spawn!' screamed Goody Curbain, thrusting the wailing child into my shaking arms. The women crossed themselves, their cries of woe bringing several of the men to the door.

'What in God's name is going on?' cried Elijah Davies as he strode into the room, red faced from the drink, 'Has my child been brought into the world?'

'This child bears the markings of the devil! The devil has been brought amongst us!' Echoed the cry of Goody Curbain.

The child was snatched from my arms by Elijah Davies whose face twisted in disgust as he beheld his child. Hester sat up in bed, 'Let me see my child!' she begged, 'Is it a boy or a girl? Let me see!'

Mary looked at her with tears in her eyes, 'Tis better if you don't, dear.'

**A/N: This installment of the story is dedicated to **_pumpkinpuss_** who read and reviewed. Hope this story is alright and hope to hear from all you fanfiction writers soon – whether it's good criticism or bad. Yes, Ichabod will be in the story as soon as I get this part of it out of the way. Well now I'm going to go update my vampire story, Trapped in Deaths Embrace. Best wishes.**

**xXxSugar, Adieu.**

**PS; TWO more days till Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End comes out! (I live in Australia so it may be a different date for you). Bring on Jack Sparrow!!!**


	3. Chapter 3

My limbs ached from the hard wooden pew where I sat between Mary and Jack as Rector Curbain raged above us in the pulpit, sprays of spittle flying from his mouth.

'_And indeed the Devil was there that night, planted in the womb of Hester Davies to make you all pay for your Sinful ways! Restrain yourselves and pray that the good Lord sees fit to forgive you and shield your miserable souls from the temptation of Satan. Fall to your knees and pray to dear God that in His unbounded wisdom He will look down upon thee and have mercy on your miserable souls!'_ his face red from lack of breathe, Rector Curbain slammed shut the leather bound bible and returned his scrutinizing gaze to the congregation.

The church service dawned to a close, the villagers filed out of the church silently.

Governor Linders and his twin daughters moved past us, looking at the ground and not meeting anyone's eyes. Elijah Davies and his wife Hester were absent from the Sunday service, news of the birth having spread fast through our village of two hundred. Emily Clark, the aging wife of young Victor Clark, the Towns Magistrate was said to have taken to her bed due to illness was also not present as I did not see her standing with the other women when we left the church. Victor Clark arrived in the Village as a poor man seeking to start a career in law. Emily Clark, the spinster daughter of the towns old Magistrate Gabriel Linders was twenty eight years his senior when they married after only having known each other for a few months. Their union aroused suspicion among the town's people whose firm belief was that this marriage consisted merely of Victor Clark securing an influential position for himself as the new town magistrate when Gabriel Linders drowned the following winter.

'Do you think we should call in on Mrs Clark?' I asked Mary, considering that we might as well seeing as we would have to walk past their house on our way home.

Mary smiled, 'An excellent idea, Elizabeth. I daresay it did well for her health that she was fortunate to miss Rector Curbain's sermon.'

I thought of what fate befell the child, though I was certain I already knew the answer. 'Nothing good can come of this, Mary. Rector Curbain has worked himself into a worrisome frenzy.'

She nodded, 'Elizabeth, you must watch your tongue. Last night when you said those words I feared for your life. Promise me you'll be careful from now on.' She insisted.

'It was only something my mother used to say to ease the birth, white magic if you will call it anything. I meant well.'

'I know you did,' she said, 'When I was a girl living back in the old country, the village wise woman was accused of witchcraft when the babe she helped deliver was born with a disfiguring birthmark on its face. It was back in the times when the Witch hunt craze turned into an epidemic. She was trialed by the infamous Mathew Hopkins himself until she finally went mad and 'confessed' to everything. They burnt her and it is said her screams are still heard today echoing in the wind that blows through the valley.'

I shivered. It was too unpleasant a thing to be thinking of on such a fine early spring morning as this. I closed my eyes and breathed in the freshness of the fields around me waking up from their long winter sleep. The blue bells and butter cups in the meadow nodding at us in the wind. The cottage of the Clarks was a large stately building built near the town hall, three stories tall with an adjoining stable and washhouse. Mary rapped the heavy iron door knocker and we stood waiting to be let in. Several minutes passed and we knocked again.

'I suspect that she's still abed then.' Said Mary as we walked back along the road, me stopping to pick blue bells and braid them into a wreath. Mary did like wise with the buttercups. 'The bluebells will look lovely against your auburn locks, Elizabeth.'

I finished entwining the last few cerulean blooms and arranged the wreath on my head, 'How do I look?'

'Beautiful! The bluebells really set out your cobalt eyes, just you wait and all the lads will come running.' She teased.

I scowled for I hated being jested about the fact that I did not yet have a beau, 'I can assure you that is not one of my intentions! I have no wish to marry the first farmer's son that takes an interest in me and decides to take me for a wife. Besides, unlike the rest of the girls in the village, I have no cousin to take interest in me.'

Mary laughed, her grey eyes dancing, 'One day a man will come that will sweep you off your feet, Carmen,' she said, speaking my real name for the first time in a while, 'And then you will learn what it is like to love and be loved.'

Being the Sabbath, there was no work to be completed in preparing herbs and poultices, so in the afternoon I was free to do as I pleased. Swinging a wicker basket on my arm and calling Remus to my side, I took my leave intending to spend the day looking for berries and mushrooms in the woods. I knew these woods like the back of my hand and with Remus at my heel I had nothing to fear. Children's stories of goblins and fairies never having the effect on me, for if there indeed were such things as fairies in the forest, they would take care not to be seen. I decided to take the birch path that would lead me to the lake where early blue berries grew in abundance and the water hens made their nests.

Twigs and branches crackled in the distance indicating someone was approaching. Remus's ears stood up and he stopped to sniff the air as the sound drew nearer. Though the Native tribes had long ago abandoned this land raped off them by the town founders, it was instinct that lead me to crouch behind a gnarled oak. Victor Clark emerged from the foliage, closely followed by Eliza Linder. Eliza stopped to shake the leaves from her raven locks and brushed the dirt off her gown, the hem of which was soaked with mud and grime. Victor laughed and moved closer to remove a wayward twig that had become imbedded in her hair. Eliza blushed and let him move closer, taking a quick look around to make sure they were alone.

'No need to worry, Pet,' he murmured, 'its safe.' He lifted her face to his and started to kiss her softly.

Not knowing what to do, I looked away feeling embarrassed to have witnessed a display of affection the Puritan leaders of our village would have shunned. Victor Clark, town magistrate and married man with Governor Linders daughter! The scandal there would be if anyone was to find out. I turned back to look at them, seeing that Victor had deepened the kiss and was beginning to pull up Eliza's skirt.

'Mmm, Victor, stop it,' she said softly, pulling away slightly, 'Someone might see us!'

'Who? You fret too much, Eliza.' he said, still clutching Eliza's skirts.

'If we stay here too long, my father will realize I've gone. This very moment Agnes is pretending to be me by sitting with him and mending his clothes while he reads from the Bible. If he discovers it is really her, I'll be punished!'

Victor sniggered, 'How would he know? No one can tell you apart!'

Eliza took offense and her face darkened, 'What do you mean, you…'

Realizing he'd said the wrong thing, 'Because both of you are such striking beauties you falter the hearts of every man in the village.' He quickly assured her.

Eliza giggled and took his arm, 'Let's be gone then, darling.'

I waited for them to recede into the trees before we emerged from our hiding place. I could not grasp what I had bared witness to. Yet it was not a hard apprehension to understand, for it was true that Eliza Linders was a stunning beauty and would one day marry well, but seeing her with Victor Clark was something I found hard to conceive.

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**A/N: Thank you most kindly for reading and I hope it is to your liking. Reviews are lovely, and though there is still sometime until Ichabod arrives, he will be in the next chapter…which I'll update if interest via reviews/messages has been expressed. Until then, best wishes,**

**xXxSugar**


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